


as long as

by alcyonenight



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 00:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14944646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcyonenight/pseuds/alcyonenight
Summary: Prompto's not feeling so hot, but neither is Noctis, and we all know who Prompto puts first.





	as long as

Every battle is tiring in its own way, but after fighting their way through a swarm of MTs to get to the Haven, Prompto thinks he's more exhausted than he really ought to be. And usually he comes out of these lengthy fights hot and sweaty, but this time he just feels cold.

He takes stock of himself while Ignis makes dinner. Chills. Headache. Tickle in his throat. 

This really isn't a good time to start getting a cold, Prompto tells himself.

He sighs, and then has to breathe very carefully for a few moments to keep from coughing.

"Prompto, you okay?" Noct asks. "You look kinda pale."

Prompto forces on a smile. "Dude, I'm _always_ pale. I'm fine." 

"If you're sure," Noct replies.

But it's all right. Prompto might not be fine just then, but he's going to be fine in the morning. He's going to get to bed as early as he can without anyone asking weird questions, huddle deep down in his sleeping bag so that he's toasty warm and doesn't breathe on anybody in his sleep, and get some good rest, and come sunrise he will have beaten this oncoming cold right off.

\---

Prompto wakes up _miserable._

He's disoriented, with a pressure in his lungs that threatens to turn into a hacking cough. He can't stop shivering. The ache in his head from last night has spread over his entire body.

There's a soft conversation going on next to him. It's grounding enough that Prompto's mind can supply important information: he's in the tent. It's morning. He's still sick. He's... definitely worse. That's not good. The guys won't be happy if they have to stop for him, so he needs to get up. Push through this.

While Prompto's still trying to convince himself to move, he hears Gladio swear. "Noct's burning up," he says, and Prompto opens too-heavy eyes to see Gladio and Ignis kneeling by Noct on the other side of the tent.

Noct looks... bad. He's curled in on himself, shivering. He coughs a few times, dry but clearly uncomfortable. Despite not feeling all that great himself, Prompto's stomach twists with worry. "What's going on?" he asks. He shoves himself up to sit and swallows down a cough before it can escape his mouth.

"Noct's sick," Gladio says. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Prompto says. Some part of him immediately regrets the statement, but he's not about to take it back. Not when he's looking at Noct, shaking in his sleeping bag.

"What're we gonna do?" Gladio asks. "Looks an awful lot like rain out there."

"We're... very low on funds," Ignis says, eyes distant, probably doing math. "If we can take an easy hunt or two, though, we should be able to make enough to get a motel room and have some proper shelter, and then work things out from there." He pauses. "But one of us should stay with him."

"I'm right here," Noct mumbles.

"I'll stay," Prompto volunteers, because he is _not_ up to a hunt. Besides... "You two are both better fighters than I am."

Ignis and Gladio glance at each other. Gladio seems to hesitate. He has suspicion, maybe, in his expression. "You gonna be able to handle it?" 

"'Course I am," Prompto says, and makes himself sit up straighter. "Just call you guys if anything goes wrong, right?"

"Yeah," Gladio replies, and his expression smooths into something more normal.

"Noct," Ignis says, gentle and soft, and waits until Noct's looking at him. "Gladio and I are going for a little while. We will be back in a few hours. Prompto will be with you if you need anything. Do you understand?"

"I'm not dying," Noct says. "Just lemme sleep."

Sleep. Doesn't _that_ sound good. But Prompto has a job to do. He smiles at Gladio and Ignis. "Go on," he says. "Sooner you get the cash, sooner we can clear out and get Noct somewhere warm."

"Call us if _anything_ changes, all right?" Ignis asks.

"Yeah, yeah, get _going,_ " Prompto says, and forces himself to smile. "Don't worry about it."

\---

The rain starts to patter down an hour later. Usually a gentle, steady noise like that would put Noctis right to sleep, but right now, with his head aching like this, the sound drags him to alertness instead. After a few minutes, he gives up on sleeping and sits.

Prompto's in the tent with him--right, they were worried, so they left someone. Prompto, who is... gritting his teeth? But as soon as Noctis looks over, Prompto's face settles into a smile that Noctis doesn't quite like but is too fuzzy to figure out why. 

"Hey. How're you feeling?" Prompto asks.

"Head hurts," Noctis says.

Prompto nods, and when he speaks again, he pitches his voice lower. "I think there's some painkillers in the first aid kit. You want me to check?"

Noctis nods so hard his head spins. "Yeah, yeah that would- that'd be great," he says, and rubs his temples. 

"You got it," Prompto says, and slips out of the tent.

It takes awhile, long enough that Noctis starts to think he's not going to get those painkillers after all. But after a few minutes, Prompto reappears. Completely drenched. But he does have a bottle of pills in one hand and a water bottle in the other.

"Aren't there raincoats somewhere in here?" Noctis rasps.

Prompto blinks. "Oh, yeah," he says, and smiles that somehow-not-right smile. "I forgot." He stoops down to pass the bottles to Noctis. "I got your drugs, though," he says, and turns away to wring at his... pajamas?

"You didn't get dressed," Noctis says.

"You know me," Prompto says without turning back.

Noctis pulls a few pills from the bottle and knocks back some cool water, and oh, that feels so good on his throat. "Don't get sick too," he says.

Prompto laughs. "Don't worry about me," he says. "Lemme change, though. Don't look."

Noctis rolls his eyes. "Of course not," he says, and turns away to drink more water.

A few minutes later, Prompto sits down next to him. "Anything else I can do?" he asks, so gentle.

"Kinda cold," Noctis says.

Prompto shifts a little closer, and _oh._ Noctis would've thought he'd be freezing after being out in that rain, but instead, Prompto's a soothing warm presence against his side. He finds himself sinking into it.

Prompto chuckles softly. "Try and get some rest, okay?" he asks.

"Yeah," Noctis says, and despite the throbbing in his head only just starting to ease, the warmth washing over him is enough to lull him to sleep.

\---

Prompto swallows down what would probably be an ugly cough. That was a disaster, he reflects, and he's really lucky that Noct was too out of it to question it. How had he forgotten to _get dressed?_ And that there were raincoats right next to the door to the tent? At least the cold soak had cleared his head a little.

Noct's asleep again, which is good. He doesn't seem to be getting any worse, which is even better.

Prompto's... not so sure about himself, if he's honest. 

The rain had shaken off some of the fuzziness, but it had only tightened the pressure in his chest, and made his muscles ache even worse. He was starting to feel a little nauseated, too, even though he hadn't had anything to eat or drink all day. And the chill had soaked deep down into his bones, as if his whole body is just a few minutes away from freezing solid.

But he has a job to do, and he's going to do it.

It's been two hours since Gladio and Ignis left. How long will this take? When will they be back?

Prompto's head spins like water around a drain. Another soak in the rain would be bad, but maybe another bottle of water would be good. And Noct's asleep, so when he goes outside, he can cough for a few minutes.

Gingerly, Prompto shifts Noct off his shoulder to lay down, settling Noct's head on the pillow and tugging the sleeping bag over his shoulders. Noct mumbles something, but he doesn't wake up.

Prompto puts on the raincoat and gets to his feet very, very carefully. His vision blurs for a moment, but everything fades back in, and he doesn't fall, so it's fine. He steps outside.

The rain is driving down even harder now. Prompto turns and zips the tent shut as quick as he can, so that Noct won't get wet. His head throbs in a way that is clearly a warning. He walks over to the cooler, moving slow and cautious.

When he bends down to get a water bottle, his chest seizes up on him, and he starts to cough. And cough. And cough.

It's like every itch he's willed away is determined to get out right here, all at the same time.

He can't keep standing. He's forced down to his hands and knees. Then he drops further, curled on his side.

It still won't stop coming.

It _burns_ and

his vision starts to 

fuzz at the edges

until

it

goes

white

\---

Noctis wakes up feeling... better. Not well, not at all, but better. 

Despite that, he has the crawling sense that something's wrong.

Prompto's supposed to be there, Noct remembers. Where is he?

It's quiet. The rain's even stopped, if the lack of patter against the tent is any indication. Noctis sits up, slowly, and takes a few sips of water out of the water bottle Prompto brought him earlier.

Maybe Prompto just had to go take a piss, or something.

A few minutes pass, and Prompto's still not back, and-

Noctis just _knows_ something's not right. 

He massages his temples a little, and grabs one of the raincoats just in case, and unzips the tent.

Shit.

Prompto's on the ground, barely out of arm's reach from the opening to the tent. He's curled on his side. His breathing is shallow and too fast, and he doesn't so much as twitch when Noctis crawls out of the tent and touches his arm. He's in his raincoat- how long has he been out here?

"Prom?" Noctis calls, softly.

There's no movement, no response.

"Prompto," Noctis tries again, louder this time, and coughs at the strain on his voice.

This time, Prompto's eyes flicker open, and then go wide. "N-" he starts to say, and then coughs, something that comes from deep down in his chest. Finally, finally, he recovers from that, to stammer out, "What- what're you-" And then he's coughing again, thick and ugly, and then his eyes slip closed.

Noctis feels his heart break.

It's cold and wet out here, and it can't be good for Prompto, but... he's not sure if he even has the strength in him to drag Prompto back into the tent.

Noctis swallows, and slips back inside. He finds his bag, and pulls out his cell phone, and makes a call. 

"Ignis, I- no. Prompto is..."

\---

"Prompto," someone says, stern. "Prompto, you need to wake up."

And Prompto realizes he is _in trouble_ because he was supposed to be watching Noct and he must've fallen asleep, and-

He opens his eyes to Gladio hovering over him, concern written all over his features.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I- I'm sorry I-" Prompto stutters, and then he can't breathe because he's coughing again.

"Don't try to talk!" Noct says from somewhere off to his side.

"Prompto," Ignis says, and slips into Prompto's field of vision. "I'm going to ask you some questions, all right? Nod your head for yes, and shake it for no. Please be honest with me."

Prompto's cold, so cold, but it still sends chills down his spine because they are going to be _so mad_ at him for fucking this up-

"Prompto," Ignis says, and Prompto manages to focus on the calm voice. "Do your chest or lungs hurt?"

Prompto nods.

"Are you shaking because you feel too cold?"

Prompto nods, again.

"Do you feel like you're getting enough air?"

Prompto's... not sure, and he tries to say so, but all that happens is that he starts to cough again. Somewhere in all of that, he feels a gentle hand rubbing his back.

"Told you not to try to talk," Noct says. 

Prompto starts to apologize by reflex, but stops himself before he starts choking on it.

"Do you feel like you need to see a doctor?" Ignis asks.

Prompto shakes his head so hard he goes dizzy. He can't slow them down, not anymore, not like-

"Prompto," Gladio says, so gentle it hurts. "Don't push yourself. It's okay."

Prompto wants to ask if it really is, but he knows better than to try to speak, now, so he just looks up at Gladio and hopes the question speaks for itself.

"You can relax," Gladio says.

If Gladio says that it's all right, then maybe it is, because Gladio never wants them to take a break, ever, no matter how tired anyone is. Prompto doesn't quite sigh, but he lets out a tired, slower breath.

"That's right," Noct says. "You feel like you can get up?"

Prompto blinks, and for the first time, he's aware of where he is- sitting on the Haven, most of his weight against Noct. When did he sit up? He blinks, again, and looks around him.

"Yeah, I figured," Gladio says, and before Prompto can wrap his mind around that, he's hoisted up into Gladio's arms like a child.

Ignis is helping Noct to his feet--Noct is so _pale,_ what if something bad had happened while Prompto passed out--but Gladio's already starting to move away, and Prompto doesn't have the air in him to ask questions, and he's so, so tired.

The steady motion puts Prompto to sleep.

\---

Noctis doesn't like it, but they don't take Prompto to a doctor.

"If he takes a turn for the worse, we will," Ignis says, strict and calm. "As it stands, he is very ill, but I do not think he is in mortal danger."

"He should've just told us," Noctis says, tracing lines in the condensation on the window of the Regalia.

"Yes," Ignis agrees. "What he did was very dangerous, for multiple reasons, but I don't think it would do much good to try to tell him now. Do you?"

Noctis looks over at Prompto, entirely still and deeply asleep, and sighs. It stirs another cough out of his chest, and he winces. "I don't know how he could hold out so long."

"He's tougher than he looks," Gladio says.

"Yeah, but..." Noctis thinks of how _awful_ he felt when he woke up this morning, and wonders how much worse Prompto must have been feeling. 

"Prompto will be fine," Ignis says, as completely certain as he ever sounds. "It would do you well to rest, as well. We wouldn't want you to end up the same."

Noctis makes a face. "You're right," he says, because usually Ignis is, and leans against the cool window to rest.

\---

Noctis thinks maybe his fever's back up by the time they pull into the motel. His headache's definitely back, and of course, so is the rain.

Prompto wakes as the car pulls to a stop, though, and that feels good, at least.

Ignis gets them a room, and Gladio rouses Prompto enough to pull him out of the car. He's even up on his feet, though Gladio has to take some of his weight to keep him that way.

They crowd into the little motel bathroom, where Ignis turns the shower on as hot as it goes and makes Noctis and Prompto sit on the floor and breathe the steam. It helps loosen things up in his chest, and he and Prompto sit there coughing on and off for a solid fifteen minutes, periodically spitting into the little disposable cups meant for toothbrushing, until Prompto's breathing sounds a little more like it's supposed to.

"M'sorry," Prompto rasps. "Wasn' thinking straight."

"I'm not mad," Noctis tells him, even though he is, a little. "I just want you to be okay."

"Working on it," Prompto replies, and smiles. Now that he knows what he's looking at, Noctis can see how strained it is.

Noctis isn't good at this, this... feelings thing. In a lot of ways, he had it trained out of him as a child. But for Prompto, he tries--he always tries. "We don't- we don't think any less of you just because you got sick," Noctis says, because he knows Prompto and he knows that's what happened here. "I mean. I got sick too."

Prompto's got this dazed look in his eyes, but there's a hint of hope there, too, which is even worse because that means he's still not sure. "I- I guess," he says. 

"It's true," Noctis says. "I mean it."

"Okay," Prompto says, staring at the floor.

And Noctis can tell Prompto doesn't really believe him, but he doesn't know how to fix this. He doesn't know if he _can._ So he just says, "Hey. I'll see if I can get Specs to let us out of sauna jail so we can get some sleep."

And at least Prompto smiles, mostly for real, at the dumb joke. "Okay," he says, and closes his eyes, and leans his head against the wall.

Before Noctis knocks on the door to summon Ignis, for just a few moments, he lets himself take Prompto's hand.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just gotta take a break from your overambitious AU to write self-indulgent sickfic with a premise straining plausibility.


End file.
